


Mind / Fucked

by seshalia



Series: If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. [4]
Category: BLACKPINK (Band), EXO (Band), exopink
Genre: 15k, Anger Management, At this point, Erotic Transference, F/M, Fuuuuuck, I dont, No Beta, Oh Sehun is a Little Shit, Wow, a lot of - Freeform, dying, erotic countertransference, horny for angry women, horny for strong women, i cant, i cant even think of tags, i dont know, i need to shower, i think, it’s just, it’s not eve, it’s not even that smutty, it’s not that smutty, just really crude comments, now that i think of it, ok na yan, sana ganun rin laman ng wallet ko, therapist, uh, yeah ok thats good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seshalia/pseuds/seshalia
Summary: Oh Sehun has the hots for his therapist
Relationships: Lalisa Manoban | Lisa/Oh Sehun
Series: If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041254
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	Mind / Fucked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jesus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesus/gifts).



> i dont even i cant what

Sehun Oh doesn’t have time.

Not when there’s a company to build. Not when there are connections to bridge or burn. Not when there’s money to make.

But most of all, he doesn’t have time for his mother’s bullshit.

Let’s go back, shall we?

Three months ago, there had been a bit of a wrinkle at Exodus Corp. involving antitrust issues with his dad, forcing the old man to step down as CEO of the company. There was a whole debate in the meeting room about who was going to take over.

It should’ve been his mom. She was the one who founded this whole thing next to his dad. The old bitch might’ve been a living headache, but she knew how the place worked inside out. Sandra Oh, on paper, seemed like the rightful person to take the position.

But he got it.

Sehun Oh bribed just enough board members to get them to pick him, and it fucking  _ worked _ .

Of course it did.

And that’s when it all began.

His mother called it the downfall of the company, but the stocks told a different story with the way they skyrocketed. Exodus went from being an underdog for the last five years to the apex predator of the business world in only the first quarter of his management.

Dollars came in like moths to a flame. Investors lined up and kneeled for a chance to talk to him. Every decision his father didn’t make, every opportunity he didn’t take, Sehun made and took. He grabbed, kept, and they flew to the fucking top, and it was all thanks to him.

But of course, that was just the easy part — the sunny side of things.

Because the truth is that it wasn’t easy, nothing good ever comes easy.

Sehun believes in hard work. In professionalism. In competence

If you slacked off for even a second under Sehun’s time, your job was gone. There were no exceptions, no lenience, and certainly no kindness. It was indifference at best, anger at worst.

No one climbs to the top with sloppy employees. You have to give your best to  _ be _ the best. You can’t just fuck around and expect it to be okay as if it doesn’t affect everyone else. Sehun knows that, and in his ”professional“ opinion, it was about damn time everyone else knew that, too.

That’s how nearly half of the company had been discarded and replaced with new workers. People who had skill. People who were determined. People who knew what their jobs meant and worked their asses off like how everyone before them should’ve done. Young, hungry, and willing. Reporters got a hold of that and had a frenzy.

They called him a tyrant.

He threw his iPad against the wall.

The board told him to ignore it (though he knew most of them were only saying that because they were afraid of him). The company was doing good. That was all that mattered.

You think it stops there? Think again.

Not long after, there were rumors circulating on different floors. Of course he knows about that, too. He has to. His mother thinks that learning birthdays and names is enough. But no, they’re not. You have to understand these people’s minds. You have to know what they think of you, what they say when they talk about you, what they learn from you, and how they work under you. That’s how you  _ know _ your people.

But at the time, he wasn’t the hot topic of coffee break conversations. Not when there had been several mentions of a possible company mole within the offices.

No, fuck that. Sehun wasn’t having everything he worked for be ruined by some sleaze who couldn’t even hide their fucking tracks. Not a fucking chance.

He visited every floor every day. Called it a daily checkup. He realized that they’d be back on their desks before he could see shit because he kept showing up, so he installed more security cameras than his guards found necessary before they were fired to find these fuckers who crawled in his territory like roaches. There was one instance where he punched the living daylights out of a new recruit who’d been caught on the phone talking to someone from one of their rival companies. Actually, two instances. Possibly three.

Maybe more.

Of course, gratuitous violence is frowned upon, and though the assholes he “assaulted” (he thinks that if it’s rightful, it should be considered self-defense) didn’t press charges, they did try sneaking in bullshit to the press. No one came forth about how he laid his hands on them. They were at least smart enough to know that if they spoke about it, Sehun would ruin their lives.

They called him an evil dictator.

Sure, he was uptight, and yeah, he broke a few bones in his life that weren’t his, but they all fucking deserved it. At the end of the day, Exodus is fucking flourishing, his people are paid big, and everything he did was justified.

He broke a TV this time.

(Didn’t matter though, they had more than enough money to buy a new one.)

And it went like that for a while. Demolishing competition, firing people who weren’t taking their jobs seriously, breaking off connections that weren’t useful, making new ones that guaranteed only the best results, it was all about winning. Sehun was winning.

Until his mom came back.

And now, here they are, face to face on opposite sides of the table, arms both crossed. Everyone tells him that he’s exactly like her. The perfect replica, almost.

Except they don’t know she’s worse.

The old bitch is sneaky. She ordered a board meeting under his nose and hid it from him long enough that she managed to bribe half of the members to get on her side. It was a big “fuck you” to his face, and he found the time to hypocritical about it. It wasn’t until the question was presented did he realize her plan.

“Is Sehun Oh fitting to be Exodus’ CEO?”

Sehun knows the answer is yes, and the board knows that too, with the fat paychecks they were getting. But the votes came in, and he felt his last shred of humanity disappear into thin fucking air.

“The board has decided to withdraw CEO Sehun Oh’s position for the time being due to his aggressive behavior and possibly, dangerous mental state. If he is not deemed fit for the position by our allotted time, he’ll be taken off permanently. Any further questions?” His mother asks with a victorious look on her face.

He glares at her.

“Actually, I have a question,” asks Jisoo Kim, also known as one of the people in this room who had a fucking brain. “What method exactly are we going to use to ‘deem’ Mr. Oh’s competence to resume his rightful position?”

She’s not a suck-up. In fact, Jisoo Kim doesn’t need to be here. The only reason why she’s got a seat in this damn room is because she’s interested in power, just as much as he is, and although she’s not exactly a big fan of violence, as long as she’s getting her part, she doesn’t give a shit.

The second he gets his job back, he’s giving her more shares.

His mother wasn’t pleased with the word ‘rightful,’ but what she lacks in brains, she makes up for with acting skills. He knows the smile on her face was fake, along with the rest of her good-natured person facade. Sandra Oh is a beast.

“Well, Miss Kim, I’m glad you asked.”

-

Therapy.

Fucking  _ therapy _ .

His deranged mother sent him to a small clinic that had the AC on blast and the worst couch his ass has ever sat on. 

It isn’t a completely bad place. The glass coffee table in front of him has a decent flower arrangement, and the paintings that hang on the walls aren’t shitty pieces. The receptionist’s desk is in pristine condition, and for what it’s worth, his anger simmered down at least 0.05 percent thanks to the calming ambiance.

Plus, his shrink is hot.

Really,  _ really _ hot.

So hot that the AC must’ve stopped working because his palms started to sweat, forcing him to wipe them down on his tailor-fit dress pants.

She introduces herself. Lalisa Manoban, credentials, doctorates or whatever, all that shit blah blah blah. She shakes his hand and smiles at him, all warm and sunny.

The plan had been to not say anything. To keep his mouth shut and prove that he can behave. That’s what they want, right? For him to learn how to shut his mouth and sit still. He can do that.

He sits down in silence and waits for her to speak, but she doesn’t say anything either. Instead, she watches him stare at her as an hour rolls by.

Then another.

When he stands up to leave, he sees her trail behind, accidentally dropping a pen. She picks it up, ass in the air, and his brain short circuits because of course it does.

Long legs, slim figure, probably does yoga because she didn’t even bend her knees. The heels are a wonderful addition, too.

She turns back again, and he looks at her closely. Doe eyes behind rectangular specs and round rosy cheeks, both features reminding him of a doll, and her hair is tied into a bun that leaves her neck exposed. Further down, he sees her clothes, the white dress shirt hidden behind a sexless blazer, and the tight pencil skirt that managed to give him a peak of her hourglass shape. She looks like one of those sexy librarians you’d have wet dreams of back in 8th grade.

Her eyes follow him, breaking his trance and forcing him to focus on his previous task of leaving her office. But in his mind, he has to ask something before he leaves.

“Is this appropriate?” 

His finger points between both of them, voice laced with genuine curiosity when he asks.

“You mean therapy?” She smiles at him again and leaves that warm fuzzy feeling buzzing in his insides for the hundredth time today. “Of course it is! Although it seems rather intimidating at first, I can assure you that anything can be shared within this space, and it’ll be kept safe.”

“No, I mean,” he gestures the both of them again, causing her brows to furrow. “Is this appropriate?”

The clock says 5:30.

Times up.

He disregards her confused state. “You know,” he starts, right before he leaves. “If I had known my shrink was going to be this hot, I would’ve gotten into more fights  _ years _ ago.”

He winks at her before she can register what he just said.

He looks forward to their next session.

-

  
  


“So, Mr. Oh—“

“Sehun.”

She lifts her gaze up from whatever she’s writing on. “Sehun,” she clears her throat. “What are some of your hobbies? You know, what do you like to do?”

He pretends to think for a moment. “Well, I don’t really have any. But there is this one thing that I’ve set my eyes on but haven’t done yet…”

“Go on,” she urges, interested in what he might have to say.

“You.”

“What?”

“You,” he repeats, smiling as if it was an actual, genuine answer. Her hand starts moving, writing something down with a crease between her brows that says she doesn’t appreciate his comment.

“Are you aware of the reason as to why you’re in my office today?”

See, there are two ways this can go.

The first one is the truth.

The truth is that he came back because her whole sunshine demeanor and her gorgeousness pulled him back here by the balls, and he was definitely fantasizing about bending her over that desk and fucking her senseless.

The second one is what  _ they _ consider to be the truth.

And he’s building up this thing between them, so he goes for the second option, even though he wants to see her reaction if he had chosen to be honest. Oh well, sacrifices are to be made for optimal results.

“Because of the press,” he scowls at the memory of reporters swarming him. “And the stupid board members who couldn’t think with their fucking heads. And the old bitch.”

Her brows furrow at this, confused as to who he was pertaining to.

His eyes roll back. “My mom.”

She starts writing, nodding as she follows everything he says. “By the tone of your voice, you seem quite vexed with your mother. Is there a reason why?”

“We’re not at that stage yet, Doll Face.” He crosses his arms, clearly pissed at the question.

She frowns at the nickname. “Please refrain from using unprofessional names and refer to me properly.”

“Sure,” his body leans forward. “ _ Dr. _ Doll Face.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“The board members, then,” she mirrors him, leaning forward as well with elbows on the table and her chin resting on her hands. “Any reason for the animosity with them, Mr. Oh?”

“Sehun.”

“Sure, Sehun.” His name sounded like music to his ears whenever it rolled out of her tongue. He wonders how much sweeter it’ll be once he gets her to scream it. “Can you tell me why you’re angry at them, at least?”

“Because they’re fucking stupid. And they can’t do their fucking jobs.” He answers quickly, not bothering to elaborate because he believes it’s enough.

“Why are they stupid?” She recapitulated. ”Because they decided to send you here?”

“Yes,” he grunts.

“And they can’t do their jobs because of the same reason, am I correct?”

He doesn’t bother answering vocally, settling for a nod.

“And you’re well aware that they saw something in you that they didn’t like and decided to do something about it.” She continues, watching him like a hawk as she speaks. “Quite similar to the way you saw things you didn’t like and decided to do something about it.”

“I don’t follow, doc.” He scowls, sinking back into the cushions of her couch.

“No, you do,” she starts moving things around her table. “I’m well aware of your intelligence, Mr. Oh—“

“Sehun.”

“—And I know that you aren’t stupid. Summa Cum Laude with more accolades to your name than I have fingers. You’re smart. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here,” she looks up at him, and he memorizes her features to store in the back of his mind. He hopes to be able to see her face at the back of his eyelids by the time they’re done. “Right?”

“How the fuck do you know what?”

“The internet,” she looks back down on the mess of papers spread across her desk once again. “There’s quite a lot of things you’d find if you use it extensively.”

“So you’ve seen it then?” He asks, his face softening as if he’s anxious.

She’s confused at him once more. “What do you mean?”

“The video,” he feigned nervousness, shaking his voice just a bit to sell it.

“What video?”

And suddenly, his face regains sincerity, and his lips curl to a promiscuous grin.

“My sex tape.”

“You don’t have a sex tape!” She exclaims, too quickly, much to his liking. Her hand flies to her thermos, twisting the cap open and taking a big gulp.

“No. Of course not.” He chuckles, staring at her intensely. “You haven’t said yes to it yet.”

She chokes on her water, coughing a bit before taking another sip. He watches how she swallows, takes a deep breath after his comment, and the way her neck is glistening with a light sheen of sweat. 

“I cannot stress how incredibly inappropriate that comment is,” she starts, holding a hand to her chest. “Let’s focus on the topic, yes?”

“You mean the board members?” He raises a brow. “Really? You’re interested in  _ them _ ?”

“Are you aware of what your problem is, Mr. Oh?”

_ Yes, and it involves your legs not being wrapped around me _ , he almost tells her.

“My problem is that I’m pissed at the board because they’re doing exactly what I do by fixing a problem, and my anger is unjustified because I’m being hypocritical? Is that it?”

“Do you understand your problem?” She pushes, hoping to get more out of him.

He likes how eager she is.

It’s 5:30. Their session is done.

“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow, Dr. Doll Face.” He says at the door, sending her a wink on his way out. “Try not to miss me too much.”

-

The office no longer feels strange, and when he enters, it’s almost like it welcomes his presence. Like he’s meant to be here.

It’s both offensive and heartwarming.

Right now, he’s watching Lisa flip through a book, reading keenly while pushing her glasses back every now and then. She takes out a few papers that had her handwriting bleeding through thanks to the heavy ink and lighting of the room before she brings out her notepad.

There’s that crease in between her brows again, but her teeth bite down on her bottom lip. She’s adorable when she’s hell-bent on trying to pick his brain apart. He wonders if she’ll make that face when he’s inside her.

“Who would’ve thought,” she starts, clicking her pen as she compares notes. “It’s a classic case of mommy issues.”

He’s not surprised.

Doesn’t mean he wants to talk about it.

“The last time I brought your mother up, you told me we weren’t at that stage yet. And I think we’re making progress, so... how is your relationship with your mother?”

“My mother?” he reiterates, unhappy with the starting topic. The mere thought of Sandra fucks up his boner. “Why the fuck are we talking about her?”

“Her parenting might be the root cause of some, if not all, your current issues.”

He doesn’t really have to think about it. Some part of him thinks she’s right and probably is.

Sandra’s too much like him. Too ambitious. Too cunning. Too sly. At the weekly dinners his father planned when his retirement started, the old bitch made comments about everything from the company, to his clothes,  _ hell _ , to the way he ate. Ever since he was a kid, all they ever did was scream and fight with each other.

She told him to control his temper and watch his voice, all while doing  _ exactly _ what she was telling him not to do. She asked why he couldn’t be a decent human being that behaved properly, and he told her to look in the fucking mirror to see why.

His father watched in silence, knowing fully well that no matter what intervention he made wouldn’t matter.

Sometimes Sehun wonders how the two got married. Fuck that, he wonders how the two managed to even be in the same room long enough for him to be made. He holds a childish grudge against his father for not passing down his calm demeanor and sanity.

He crosses his arms. “You’re saying that I’m fucked in the head because I wasn’t coddled by my mother as a child?”

“Without the profanity, but yes.” She nods, pulling out a notebook. “As you were growing up, you were deprived of a mother’s care that you should’ve gotten. The tenderness, to be precise. It’s seen in the way you act.”

“Really?”

“I’m quite sure, yes.”

“You could’ve just said so, you know,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Her brows knit again, and her confused face is one of his favorites. Looking up from whatever she’s writing on, she frowns at him. “Well, I just told you.”

“Not the diagnosis, doc,” he licks his lips before standing up from his seat and walks up to her desk, smirking at how her eyes follow him and the way her chest rises and falls as he gets closer. “I meant the unsubtle way you tried to tell me you’ve got a mommy kink.”

He looks down at her, watching a droplet of sweat fall from her throat down to her chest that was still clad in the stupid white dress shirt he wanted to rip off before meeting her eyes again.

“Back to your seat. Now.” She orders him with a cold tone. It doesn’t send a chill down his spine, but it does make his cock rock hard.

“Yes,” he stands back upright with a sinister smile on his face and returns to the couch. “ _ Mommy _ .”

-

Sometimes Lisa’s busy, and he’s left in the company of the full blast AC and waiting lounge couch that doesn’t feel as comfortable as the one in her office. Sometimes, he’s left with her receptionist.

“Mr. Oh,” she starts while typing something and taking a call at the same time. “Lisa will see you in a few minutes.”

“Lisa, huh?” He says with a lollipop stick between his teeth. “No doctor or anything. You two close?”

She glares at him for stealing a sweet in the candy bowl that was obviously meant for kids.

Like he fucking cared.

“We’re best friends.” She answers nonchalantly, returning to her computer to type something again.

Before he can say anything, the familiar tap of his favorite doctor’s stiletto heels on the marble flooring pries his attention, and his eyes trail upwards to the tight pencil skirt and boring blazer duo she had on to the pretty little scowl on her face.

“Dr. Doll Face, Minnie here tells me you two are best friends,” he grins, gesturing at the two women with his lollipop. “Have you told her about how much you love to s—“

She pulls him away by his elbow, and it sends him into a frenzy. The roughness of her touch. Sure, he loves the sunny Lisa Manoban with the composed stature and soft heart, but the glowering one that shoots him dirty looks and sends daggers his way makes him weak. Really fucking weak.

“Sit. Down.” She orders once they’re inside. Although it was hot, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat if she asks him to, he props himself on the sofa with a confidence that annoys her to the fullest.

“How do you want me, doc?” 

_ Over or under? _ He thinks to himself.

“Quiet,” she sits down, clicks her pen, starts writing, and he can feel his pants tighten. “I want you quiet.”

He chuckles, ready with a crass comment on the tip of his tongue, but she beats him to it by ruining his fun.

“If you say anything about gagging or the likes, I  _ will _ have you transferred to Dr. Kim.”

“We both know you’re bluffing, doc,” he chuckles as she ignores him by flipping through her notes like she always does. “You like me too much to let me go. I’m the fuck up of your dreams, just say it.”

“There is nothing to be said, Mr. Oh—“

“Sehun.” He corrects, frowning childishly that she still refers to him that way.

“Shut up,” she sighs, and the breathy sound makes him think of her underneath him while out his head, she’s still reading about the things he knows she’s already memorized about him. “And what did I say about self-deprecation, both humorously and not?”

“The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can start our family.”

That gets her attention.

“What?” She asks, dropping her notepad and pen on her desk.

“I mean, it’s inevitable, you know.”

“ _ What _ are you talking about?”

“And it’s not like we’re getting any younger. Gotta start now while we still can.”

“What  _ family _ ?”

“I’ve always wanted twins. One boy, one girl. But now I’m thinking four. Two sets of twins?” he starts rubbing his chin as if he’s in deep thought. “Or maybe just one to spoil rotten. Boy, girl, doesn’t matter, I’ll love ‘em either way.”

“I have no plans for having children.” She says sternly.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” a hand falls on his chest, feigning woundedness as if he’d been greatly offended. “Think of our kids, Lisa. Imagine what they’d think if they heard you say that.”

“Nothing.” She stresses. “The nonexistent, hypothetical children that we are  _ not _ having will think of nothing over what I said.”

“Sally is very, very upset with you,” his eyes fall down to her stomach with a soft look. “Mommy’s just in a mood, Sally. Don’t worry. She still loves you.”

“I’m not pregnant.”

The folder she’s holding closes shut.

“ _ Obviously _ ,” he says, rolling his eyes as if she’s the one who’s not getting it. “Not yet.”

-

“Okay, Mr. Oh—“

“Sehun.” He corrects.

“Quiet.” Her eyes glare at him, and the authority in her voice makes his dick twitch. At this point, she’s convinced him that he’s willing to submit to her, and it’s a good thing he’s in therapy because he definitely needs to fix that one out. “Our topic for today is libido. Freudian libido — before you open your mouth and say something you’ll regret.”

He blinks at her. “I don’t regret anything I say, doc.”

“There are times when you should,” she replies, closing the book she had opened for extra notes. “What do you know about Freudian libido?”

“I know that I don’t want to talk about it because I’d rather we talk about yours instead,” he answers while dragging his eyes across her figure.

“Okay, let’s talk about mine,” the statement unsurprisingly gets his attention, and Lisa walks to the front of her desk, leaning on it as she ignores the way he’s staring at her. “My libido is centered around my want to help. That’s my life drive. What keeps me going and why I have this job. But that means I’m prone to caring and catering to others that I forget myself, which is where the people I surround myself with come in and remind me to think of me, too. Does that make sense?”

“Definitely,” he nods. “You’re a sub.”

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

“A spoiled one, while we’re at it.” The look plastered on Sehun’s face practically leaks arousal. “Or maybe a switch. Either way, it’s fine.”

“That is inapp—“

“No, it really is,” he waves her off. “I can  _ happily _ work with both. Though I do prefer the former. I’d like to see what it takes to tame you.”

Lisa feels her throat throb at the statement, but she ignores this.

Needless to say, Freud has been disposed of, and she keeps her notes on oral fixation far,  _ far _ away from where he could possibly find them.

-

Lisa isn’t a quitter because she can’t quit.

No, seriously, she  _ can’t _ quit.

She’s in-demand, booked with an extensive number of clients, and had no other plan if she even had that chance (which she didn’t).

Dr. Junmyeon Kim isn’t making things easier, either.

“I’m sorry, Lisa. But we don’t have anyone else who can take him. And besides, it was your expertise that was requested. My hands are tied.” 

She throws a small tantrum.

Like a bratty 7-year-old, she throws a  _ tantrum, _ and it’s all Sehun’s fault that she’s reduced herself into an immature, childish mess.

“But why?” She groans, crossing her arms on her desk and burying her face in it, trying to get rid of Sehun Oh’s stupidly handsome face off her mind.

“I’d normally counter with ‘why not’, but it seems like you have an answer. He hasn’t said or done anything wrong, has he?”

Oh, he has. He’s outwardly flirted with her, made multiple comments about what he wanted to do with her (or her to do to him or him to do to her, it changes on the go), and eyed her up all the time like he wanted to devour her.

And she  _ liked _ it.

“No,” she answers, banging her head on the mahogany where he once mentioned that he fantasized about doing something on it and when she asked (a stupid decision of hers, might she add) what it was, he smirked and told her that she knew.

(She did, she just wanted to hear him say it, and  _ of course _ he knew that, too.)

“Look, no one is above help, Lisa,” Junmyeon starts with a smile. “Just give yourself up completely to the process, and he’ll be out in no time.”

_ That’s EXACTLY the problem,  _ she wants to yell,  _ he wants me to give up ALL of myself completely, and if I keep seeing him in my office almost every day, I just might! _

But she doesn’t have a choice.

And she’s not going to quit.

Not when she knows she’s better than this. Better than the temptation.

Better than the dominating, volatile CEO Sehun Oh and his ridiculously gorgeous face and very,  _ very _ dirty mouth.

And now she’s here, sitting across him, trying to get his attention for what seems like the millionth time today.

“Sometimes, certain experiences in our life can contribute to our decisions and even our trauma. For example: one time, I had been kicked off my dance troupe because I messed up a move I couldn’t do.”

He sits up at that, and she thinks she’s finally getting a hold of him because, for once, he’s not zeroing on the length of her skirt.

“Dancing is a passion of mine that I’ve had while growing up. It was with me through high school and college. It’s something I’m proud of to this day, and I never fail to mention it when the opportunity arises,” she picks up a picture frame of her in a victory photo with her college dance group to show to him. “But it wasn’t always like that because when I was much younger, I nearly gave it up after an accident trying to do a midair flip that was forced on me to do during a competition. By the time I was in the air, it was too late. And even then, due to my drive of wanting to always help others and being a ‘yes’ person, even if I had the chance, I probably wouldn’t have said no.”

“How bad was it?” He asks, leaning forward as he listens intently to every word.

“I nearly shattered my knee,” she grimaces at the memory. “I couldn’t walk for months, and they took me off the team.”

He almost looks upset for her.

Her heart warms at that.

“I knew it didn’t matter because I could always join next year once I was fully healed, and it wasn’t like they took me off out of malice or anything, but I felt really bad and disappointed with myself.”

“Why?” He asks. “It wasn’t like you had a choice. It wasn’t your fucking fault. If anything, it’s theirs.”

The way he said it with conviction shocks her for a moment, momentarily disarming her and letting her smile.

“Didn’t stop me from feeling bad, though,” she asks for the frame back, and he hands it to her. “Soon after I started walking again, my parents realized how much I still loved dancing, so they found a way to heal that traumatic event for me. I was already in therapy, but they insisted on 

letting me do gymnastics, too. The assurance of being able to catch myself helped with the healing process, and now, I’m not afraid of bending my body in different ways and risking an injury.”

Lisa sees him perk up towards the last statement, and thanks to his sudden show of empathy earlier, she thinks it’s because she managed to get through him.

“You’re flexible?”

“Yes,” she nods excitedly, not thinking much of it. “Very much so.”

He fixates on that detail for an odd amount of time when she finally realizes why he’s so keen about it.

She changes the topic quickly, urging him to talk about what possible experience could have contributed to his current issues and actions.

“So you’re really flexible? As in, the whole body?” He, yet again, cuts off her speech on what’s incredibly wrong with him and why he’s the way he is. “I’ll keep that in mind for safekeeping. Mind if I test that statement out sometime?”

She blushes, and for the first time, he notices. All the times she hid behind an exhausted face massage or sticking her nose in a book because she can’t read something properly are now useless.

“Mr. Oh, remember when we talked about what is appropriate to say in here and what isn’t?”

“Maybe,” he crosses his legs as he watches her reach the end of her rope. “Maybe not.”

She knows he remembers. “What is considered appropriate?”

Rolling his eyes, he starts listing. “Listening. Sharing. Gaining something from this— which I do so hope would be your thighs around my head soon but—“

“Sehun!” She yelled, and the look on his face breaks her spirit because she gave in. Again.

He smiles at her. “Say that again. But slower this time.”

She ignores him, shutting him out like she should’ve done ages ago when they first started this.

“And what isn’t appropriate,  _ Mr. Oh _ ?” She stresses his name, but it doesn’t phase him one bit.

“Everything else.”

“Specific, please.”

A horrible move on her part, really.

“Golden gate blowjobs.” He immediately replies with a wolfish grin. “Those are definitely inappropriate. But they sure do sound like a lot of fun, don’t they, Doll Face?”

He  _ almost _ sounds respectful.

“Excuse you?”

She’s  _ downright _ pissed.

And he adores her all the same.

-

Nightmares.

For a man who likes being called the living definition of one, he gets them quite often.

He wakes up with a jolt, breathing heavily with sweat dripping down his forehead like it rained in his room. The clock says 2:34 AM, and it’s a bit too early for morning wood, but he finds it difficult to sleep until it’s good and gone.

So he calls his therapist.

She probably knows what to do.

As his phone rings, and rings, and rings for what feels like forever, he feels his heart sink just a bit deeper with each passing sound. When he thinks there’s no use in calling, she picks up, her sleepy voice streaming through his phone, processing in his brain, and rushing right down to his boner.

“ _ Hello? Who is this? _ ”

“Morning, beautiful.”

“ _ Huh? _ ”

“Don’t hang up,”

“ _ It’s 2 AM, whatever this is can wait tomorrow. Go to sleep. _ ”

“Can’t. Bad dream.”

“ _ What was it about? _ ”

“Explosions and death and shit, I don’t fucking know.”

“ _ Turn your lights on and go get a drink. _ ”

He shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“ _ Why not? _ ”

“Stuck,” he says. “Sleep paralysis or some shit.”

“ _ Oh my God, Sehun, they’re that bad? _ ”

His hand squeezes around his dick. If she keeps on saying his name like that, he might just cum in record time.

“Do that again,” he whispers.

“ _ Do what again? _ ”

“Say ‘Oh my God, Sehun’ but use that tone when you’re pissed at me.”

The sound of a light switch turning on and bustling, most likely her sitting up, plays through the speaker.

“ _ Why? _ ”

He grunts. “It’s comforting.”

He knows her well enough that it gets her attention thanks to the whole obsession with his mother and shit. Large chance it probably gets her therapist juices flowing.

“ _ Are you okay? _ ”

“Peachy,” he sighs. “Are you wet, by any chance?”

“ _ Come again? _ ”

_ If you want me to _ , he almost tells her.

“Are you wet?” He repeats.

“ _ Did you just say wet? _ ”

“Yeah,” he gasps slightly, trying to form proper words. “Are you?”

“ _ Well, _ ” she starts, and he can already see the furrow between her eyes when the innuendo goes unnoticed. “ _ I usually take my showers later in the morning, so no, I’m perfectly dry. Why? _ ”

He sighs and wonders if she finds the sound of his voice just as arousing as he finds hers. “What are you wearing?”

“ _ An old shirt and a pair of— wait. Why are you asking? _ ”

He doesn’t give her a straight answer, just a series of profane sounds that force her to clench her thighs and remember that this is wrong on so many levels.

“ _ Mr. Oh? _ ”

“Sehun.”

“ _ Are you, perhaps, _ ” she chews on her lip, remembering that what she says next will be a long jump past therapist-patient boundaries. “ _ Touching yourself? _ ”

“What do you think?”

“ _ I think this is inappropriate _ .”

“We’re outside your office. This is fine.”

She takes a deep breath, massaging the bridge of her nose while humming to a random song. It’s a habit she’s made whenever he says something that’s technically correct, but she doesn’t want to admit it.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“ _ Of course not, Sehun. We can’t have phone sex at nearly three in the morning. _ ”

“Ah,” he chuckles, and she closes her eyes shut to the point where her forehead hurts. “I’ll call earlier next time, then.”

“ _ It’s not about the timing, okay? It’s… _ ” she gestures around her even though he can’t see. “ _ Everything. This. We can’t do this. _ ”

“Then what the fuck is your number for?” 

A palm flies to her forehead. “ _ Emergencies. Obviously. _ ”

“This  _ is _ an emergency.”

“ _ I’m gonna hang up. _ ”

“And let me die of blue balls?”

“ _ You can’t die of blue balls, Sehun. _ ” She tells him.

“Love it when you say my name. Do it again.”

“ _ If you don’t stop, you’ll be hearing Dr. Kim say your name. _ ”

“Don’t be like that.” He says in a tone she knows far too well. She can already picture his pouting face in her mind.

“ _ Sehun? _ ”

“Fuck— yes?”

“ _ Do you want me to have you committed? _ ”

“Doll Face, I’ve been committed to you since I stepped in that damn office of yours.” He chuckles. His usual quips had a tone that hinted he was joking, but this one, she feels as if he’s serious about what he had said. Even if she could hear him jacking off on the other end. “But right now we’ve got a problem, and I’d really appreciate it if you stayed on topic.”

“ _ And the topic is what? Your penis? _ ”

It came out all of a sudden. She’s sure enough he’ll be sticking it in his folder of things he got her to do because he’s brainwashed her into lasting five minutes in this call. Five minutes with him in general, to be honest.

“Tsk. Always so clinical. You’re allowed to call it a dick, a cock, whatever you want because it’s yours, after all.”

“ _ What I want is for you to respect me. _ ”

“Doc,” he sounds as if he’s genuinely offended like they aren’t in a call because he wants to touch himself to her voice. “Of course I respect you. What would make you think that I don’t?”

“ _ How is masturbating to me talking considered as respecting me? _ ”

But then she hears him sit up straight. “Do you want me to stop?”

He sounds serious.

And it’s either the fact that it’s too early, Jennie’s right and she needs to get laid, or Sehun Oh just has the effect of making her do stupid things like being honest.

“ _ Don’t. _ ” She says.

Silence.

“What?” He sounds surprised, and well, so is she.

“ _ What? _ ”

“You just said you don’t want me to stop,” there’s something in his voice she can’t quite pick apart. Maybe it’s just the morning rasp. “It’s either all the blood in my body has gone down south, or I heard you loud and clear, and I have a feeling it might be the latter.”

She doesn’t know what to reply. Doesn’t know  _ how _ . She has a session with him tomorrow, and she has no idea how to look him in the eye after this. She wonders what the fuck made her say that, so she does what she knows best.

She hangs up.

Lisa leans her head against her bed’s headboard, her lamp being the only source of light she has but still somehow heating up the room, or that’s what she tells herself. Her building is in the quiet part of town, and though everything is silent, she can still hear Sehun’s husky voice making breathy gasps and guttural moans as if he’s right beside her, moments before finishing because of  _ her _ voice.

She sinks back into the mattress.

She studied this before in college.  _ It’s normal, _ she tells herself, her hand slipping inside her lace boyshorts.  _ It’s natural _ , she thinks.

And if her patients are allowed to do this, shouldn’t the same go for her, too?

  
  


-

  
  


“Wanna know what your problem is?” He asks out of the blue during one of the many silences of their sessions.

“I’m the doctor here, Mr. Oh. Not you.”

“I wonder how you can be so oblivious to it. Or maybe you do know, and you just don’t want to do anything about it. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you’re just plain ignorant.”

“Okay, let’s go back to what you said, shall we?” The sweet smile that appears on her face replicates the ones she used to have before the clusterfuck known as  _ them _ , but there’s no mistaking the venom in her voice that makes Sehun both turned on and afraid. “You — the man who was issued a therapist by his company — are going to tell me — the therapist with the papers to prove it — what  _ my _ problem is? Really?”

“Yup,” he nods. He stands up, palms on her desk and leaning forward while she finds herself leaning back. “You’re repressed. Like, really repressed.”

“And you know what repression is?”

His finger points to the chart behind her, and his lips curl to a smug smirk. “It’s a defense mechanism.”

This annoys her.

“Uh-huh.” She nods, trying to look away from him as best as she can but failing every now and then because he’s right there, inches from her, and his hands look nice, and his scent is intoxicating, and she’s trying to remind herself that they can’t happen.

“One where you, the person with the problem, turns away from certain feelings. Thoughts. Wants.” His eyes look down to her lips, and she holds back the want to bite them. “Urges. As a lousy attempt to keep them from your super judgy Superego that won’t let you let me fuck you.”

Clicking her pen, she tries to ignore him. “Always so vulgar, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he answers, watching her every move as she stands up to throw something in the trash bin. “And you love it.”

She doesn’t deny.

“I am not repressed, Mr. Oh.” She says before sitting back down.

“That’s something a repressed person would say.” He points out, taking his seat again back on the couch.

“First of all, you have no qualifications to pull out a diagnosis like that,” she crosses her arms and glares, and he feels his erection grow harder. “Second, I am  _ not _ repressed.”

“Okay then,” he mirrors her position and crosses his arms as well. “Are you seeing someone?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Fuck buddy? Friends with benefits?”

A frown starts to form on her face. “I am not answering any of that.”

“Dating then, I suppose.”

“No.”

“The fun no as in you’re not dating anyone or the boring no as in you’re not answering?”

“Whatever happens in my personal life,  _ Mr. Oh _ ,” she exaggerates his name, and it makes him want to fuck her on that office chair she’s sitting on. “Is for a select few people and me to know.”

“Are you getting laid?”

The suddenness of the question takes her back, and the red tinge that spreads across her cheeks gives the truth away.

“You don’t need to answer. I already know.” Sehun smirks. “Which is great. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I can care about other people, too. Wouldn’t want to leave some poor guy heartbroken once I ruin you for anyone else.” 

He’s dead serious.

“And I don’t like to share.”

She remains silent, not wanting to converse with the cocky businessman in front of her.

“But tell me, Lalisa,” the way he says her name almost makes her answer. Almost. But she composes herself with indifference, even when he’s downright lecherous. “Why is a beauty like you not getting fucked on the regular?”

“Enough, Mr. Oh,” she glares at him. “I am your therapist. I expect you to treat me as such.”

He waves her off. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I won’t be answering anything from you.” 

“You should,” he retorts, raising a brow and pointing at her while his arms are still crossed. ”After all, you  _ are _ my therapist.”

“Exactly, not the other way around.”

“Ah, but you said, and I quote — ‘anything can be shared within this space, and it’ll be kept safe’ — I can keep a secret, doc. You don’t have to worry.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, and you also know that asking questions about my sex life is  _ not _ the type of sharing I’m trying to have with you.”

“Oh, so what kind of sharing did you have in mind?” He smiles innocently. “If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

“Words, Mr. Oh. Share with words. Use your words.” She sighs, and the sound doesn’t fail to make his cock twitch.

“Fine. I’m sharing that I want to know more about you. And it would be really cooperative of you if you did your part by answering and sharing as well.”

“What goes on in my life is none of your business.”

“It could be.”

She meets his gaze and stares him down.

“It’s not.”

-

  
  


He has issues.

Sehun Oh, ladies and gentlemen, has issues.

Or maybe it’s just his desperation to fuck his shrink and starting to seep into his brain and haywiring him.

“Go home,” Lisa tells him, taking off her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose. “I’ll dismiss you early today. Focus on the task I’ve given you. We’ll sit on it tomorrow.”

Quickly, he responds. “I’d rather you sit on my face.”

“Do I even need to begin with how ina—“

“Inappropriate, yes, of course. You say it so often the word starts to lose its meaning.”

He starts to think that he actually might need therapy because the way she glares him down only makes him drip with arousal. Nothing seems to turn him on more than having the kind and gentle Dr. Lalisa Manoban furious at him with a finger pointed to the door, a silent threat that told him to leave. He tilts his head, not quite satisfied yet.

So he locks the door.

“What are you doing?” She asks him, standing up from her seat when he leans on the frame.

“Tell me right now,” he starts, trying to find the right words when all the blood in his body’s rushing to his dick. “Tell me that you don’t feel anything.”

She takes a step back, and he takes one forward.

“I— What?”

“Tell me you don’t feel anything,” he’s closing the gap between them, and she’s trapped between him and her desk. She gulps as his eyes peer into her. “When I’m this close to you.”

Her breath staggers, and he hears it, smirking at the reaction.

“Tell me you don’t feel anything,” his hand moves to her waist, barely brushing it with his knuckles as she fights a shiver. “When I touch you like this.”

He’s winning her over, blowing through the walls of their supposedly strictly clinical relationship, and she panics. His hands settle on her hips, and she barely holds back a whimper when he presses lightly.

“Remember what I said about what I wanted to do on this table?” A hand comes off and knocks on the wood. 

She’s silent. All those books, papers, and the likes with word counts that made her head spin seem to have disappeared at the moment.

“I can show you. Right here, right—“

She cuts him off with a harsh slap.

Sehun lets his head stay where it’s tilted, letting himself assess the damage. First comes the shock of her action, then comes the stinging sensation on his cheek, and then comes the emotion that makes him lie awake at night, the one that he feels whenever he’s in her office, the one that wins in the end —  _ lust _ .

“Do that again,” he tells her.

“What?”

He leans forward, so she jumps to sit on her desk, and he grabs his wrist, feeling her hammering pulse against his palm. 

“What the  _ hell _ is wrong with you?” She huffs when he parts her knees and stands in between. She tries to lean back, but he pulls her by the ass, and the only thing between them is their clothes. “Are you out of your  _ goddamn _ mind?”

“Aren’t you supposed to know?” He grabs her ID from the table and shows it off to her. “Dr. Doll Face.”

She looks at everything except for him. Her bookshelves, charts, the couch —  _ no, not the couch  _ — and she scoffs at him, crossing her arms.

“What’s wrong, doc?”

“You  _ know _ what’s wrong, Sehun.” Her soft cheeks are tinted. He fights back the urge to pinch them. “At this point, I’m convinced you don’t actually  _ want _ help.”

“Don’t say that, Lisa. Of course I want help.” Him saying her name, accompanied by the friction they made with every move, earns him a small noise she isn’t able to stop that he wishes he can hear forever. “That’s why I’m still here.” 

“I’m a doctor.” She tells him diffidently. “I went to medical school. I am respected in my field, and I have helped write multiple books and essays.”

“I’m well aware, doc. I searched you up. Didn’t want to be left out in the dark. I know your accolades as much as you know mine.” He boasts with a smug grin that makes her traitorous heart bloom with a weird feeling of joy and, for some reason, relief. “You’re hot, smart, and you don’t take shit. That’s why I like you.”

“I—“ She bites her cheeks and takes a deep breath. “I’m not some girl you can just sleep with, Sehun. I’m not a one night stand or— or a friend you can call up to have sex over the phone with. I am your  _ doctor _ . You are my  _ patient _ . And this,” She gestures between them. “Us? It’s  _ unprofessional _ . It’s  _ inappropriate _ . It’s  _ wrong _ .”

He looks at her, his gaze all serious that it makes her flail in discomfort, but it doesn’t work for her because she can feel him pressing against her thigh in a way that makes her want to jump his bones.

“You can always leave.”

She’s confused. “What?”

“You can leave. Right now.” He takes a step back, and there’s a space large enough for her to slip out and escape. “You can go out through that door, have security take me out, cancel our future appointments, ban me from this establishment, and get me out of your hair for good.”

It doesn’t process in her brain properly. Mostly because she’s incredibly horny, and he always makes her overthink, so she allows her mind to take a break from all that working.

“I— Well—“

“But the thing is,” he closes the distance between them again, his hand moves up on her thigh, tucked underneath her skirt, and he keeps it there. It’s inches away from the part of her that aches for him, and his warm palm scorches her skin. “You won’t.”

He’s right there. Right there.

And she is so close to him that she can hear him breathing. She  _ feels _ him breathing. And it isn’t frantic, but it isn’t steady either. It’s as if she’s been enchanted to be frozen and silent.

“Say it.” He commands while his hidden finger traces lazy shapes and makes her breathless.

“Say what?”

“That you want this.” It dips inwards, much closer to where she wants him to be. “You want  _ me _ .”

She doesn’t speak. Answering isn’t an option when his touches make her lightheaded, all while she’s trying to fight off the feeling he’s giving her. 

“You could’ve kicked me out a long time ago, you know? Left me off for someone else’s care, somewhere else, the second I made that first comment about wanting to make you my hobby and shit, but you didn’t.” His free hand trails on her other thigh before latching on her hip, digging his fingers as he pulls her to him again, the pressure on her flesh, making her breath hitch. “Because you  _ like _ this.”

Her barriers are weakened because something as simple as a swipe of his thumb on the hem of her skirt has her biting down her lip to remain silent.

“Now I don’t know much about psychology like you do, so I don’t know what constitutes insanity,” His voice is low, and her stomach coils. “But if you let me stay here with you, and keep us in this cycle of ours that goes on over and over again, but we don’t go anywhere because you won’t a get a result that isn’t me wanting to bend you over this very desk of yours and fucking you right here, right now,” He pulls away from her and crosses his arms, leaving her bare from his touch it almost feels wrong that he’d taken them off. “Does that make you insane?”

Lisa feels whatever’s left of her dignity leave her body. Something grows inside of her, like a rose vine that bursts in her ribs, fills her lungs, reaches to her throat, and makes it difficult to breathe. It’s suffocating in a way that it’s blissful. She knows it’s not reverse psychology, and it’s not like she’s under any influence either, but he’s changed her brain into thinking that the farther he is, the closer she wants him.

Or maybe it’s always been like that. Maybe she always wanted him all along.

She knows it’s the latter.

He’s not that far. She can still see his face clearly, even without her glasses like the scar on his other cheek that she left untouched. There’s a want to slap that side as well, but she cups it instead, thumb grazing softly over it. 

Then she thinks of their theoretical child. Sally, she remembers. Would Sally be reckless like her father that she’d have scars on her face too? Or will she have her patience and be mild-mannered? Will she have his nose? Her eyes? His need to be the best? Her seemingly infinite self-restraint?

The last one is tossed out of the window. 

She grabs the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the ones he left closed. “If giving in to one of my patients’ libidinous ideas of fucking me in my office because of reasons I have yet to find is considered as insanity, then yes. Yes, it does.”

Then he smiles at her, and it’s happy. Charming, even. “Fucking finally.”

It’s his lips that touch her first with both hands on her hips to pull her closer, deeper to him. It’s ravenous, forceful, and maddening all the same. The allowance he lets her have as she tries to pick apart the buttons of his dress shirt proves to be useless because it’s hard to focus on anything when he’s kissing her like he’s starving, and it’s probably because he is.

He smirks into it, brushing a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear before moving his hands downwards to untuck her blouse.

And then pulling it apart.

The complaint she prepared is pushed back by his mouth, still as eager as he was before that the sound of her top’s buttons flying everywhere is overlapped by the sounds of their movements. Whatever protest that she had planned dissipates when his hands are on her, warm palms on the goosebumps of her bare skin.

He moves south, gliding his tongue down her throat, making her let out a shaky gasp. He licks, sucks, bites almost every inch of her chest, marking her above her collarbone, the slope of her neck, and the exposed skin of her breast. He unclasped her bra, discarding it somewhere, and kisses her everywhere while she tugs on a handful of his hair, sinful moans sounding like music to his ears.

Their lips meet again, greedy as ever. She’s given up on his shirt, choosing to unbuckle his belt instead, and she squirms just a little to hear him whisper a curse in her ear that has her wanting him even more. His hands stop hers, and he breaks away, staring into her eyes.

That’s where she sees it.

All the images he’d created in his mind of them in this very position, all the things about her that he remembered and stored in the back of his head. The comments he said that made her turn red, the silent stares where he was breaking in, and she was trying to keep him out. The almosts, the could’ve beens, the things she deprived him of: kisses, touches, the feel of them on each other.

Everything that she kept from him, she wanted him to do to her now.

“Say it.” He says once again.

She swallows. “Say what?”

“Say what you want,” he lifts up the fabric of her skirt slowly with both hands, revealing more of her, inch by inch. “ _ Now _ .”

“You.” She breathes against him when he moves them to her back, dragging a finger upwards on the dip of her spine. “I— I want— You. Please.”

“I’m gonna need you to be specific, doc.” He chuckles. She’s a puddle of faint gasps and whimpers over his touch. It’s not enough. “What do you want me to do to you, Lalisa?”

He’s magnetic as he is repulsive, she thinks to herself before grabbing his damned collar once again and crashing them together. This time, she’s the one who’s desirous of him, her back arching as she presses against him for something, anything.

His lips curl, happy with the mess he’s made of her. “Not an answer, but thoroughly appreciated. One sentence, say it, and I’ll do it.”

She doesn’t even comprehend what he says before reaching out to kiss him again.

“Fuck me,” she whispered to him. “Please.”

She doesn’t even need to see him to know there’s a smug look that formed on his face — he really is a cocky bastard through and through.

“Would be my pleasure, doc.”

This kiss is harsh. Biting, almost, and it makes her hiss in the best way possible. She leans on him, raised in the air long enough for him to bunch up her skirt to her stomach and move his hands to her ass, sliding her back into him where she can feel him rubbing against her, and it makes her weak. Even the slightest, smallest brush makes her tremble.

There’s not enough space to do much between them, and it’s not like they want to waste a second without touching each other, so he takes the liberty of ripping her panties off, balling up the lace, and shoving it in his pocket. 

Just like before, it hadn’t been for the fact that it was probably one of the hottest things she’s ever seen in her entire life, and the fact that his mouth distracted her from even thinking about it, her protest is forgotten.

The next thing she hears is a bunch of clutter falling on the floor, and the lingering feeling of his arm swiping across her desk tells her he’s the culprit. She can’t even find the energy to think of being angry when he runs his thumb on her weep, making her body limber.

“Cancel the rest of your appointments.” He slides in two fingers as he says it, and if it wasn’t for the authoritative tone in his voice, she probably wouldn’t have heard. “I’m taking you home after I’m finished with you here.” She clenches around him as he curls them, soughing at the thought of him filling her. “And I’m gonna fuck you in every fucking room in my house.”

His thumb swipes over her again as he thrusts, making her dig her nails in the thick muscle of his shoulders.

“Understood, Dr. Manoban?”

“Yes,” she whimpers while nodding. “Fuck, yes. Yes.”

“And we’ll take the whole fucking weekend when I have you on every inch and corner of my place. How does that sound?” 

“ _ Perfect _ , Sehun—“ She starts seeing stars when he starts going faster, the anticipation stirring in her stomach. “Fuck, yes, fuck.”

“And you’ll let me fuck you any way I want?” A few minutes ago, she was silent, but now she cries his name like a prayer, along with a string of profanities he coerces as he fucks her with his fingers. “You’ll let me fuck you the way you deserve to be?”

Talking fails her, so she nods.

“Use your words, doc,” he flicks across her brace, and her vision is clouded. She curses her past self for making them wait this long, but another pump reminds her that she’s here, and that’s what matters. “Will you finally let me have you?”

“ _ Yours _ .” She sobs, feeling herself crawl closer to her peak with every movement he does inside her. “I’m all yours.”

Sehun lifts her with both hands on her hips, turning her around, and bending her over her desk. 

“Oh, fuck,” she takes a long, unsteady breath as he pushes into her slowly. He’s bigger than she thought, and his initial thrust made her walls spasm at the sudden intrusion. Whatever he’d done before hadn’t prepared her enough for this. 

He chuckles.

It ripples through his body and makes him twitch inside of her, making her drag out a moan from the slight movement.

Then he drives into her with a force that has her throwing her head back and saying a few obscenities as she engulfs him. His hands grab onto her hips, pressing heavily that they’re sure to leave a bruise or two, moving to a certain rhythm that she follows easily, and the sound of his staggered breathing with her faltered gasps echoes in the room. Every move is addicting, and the more she has of him, the more she wants. Her legs start to shake, and her chest heaves when the pit of her stomach starts to swirl, rising to her high, and she’s desperate for release.

Mentally, she thanks herself for choosing to soundproof her office when she feels him run that damn finger on her ache again, the sensation overtaking her with a curse to accompany it. It doesn’t take long for her to come undone. A broken cry that doesn’t remind her of herself escapes her lips.

She rides out her orgasm, every bone in her quaking at the aftermath of her euphoric rapture that crashed over her like a tidal wave. Sehun’s hands move up to her waist, and she assists in helping him follow her over the edge. He kisses her shoulder, something that feels wholly affectionate for the current situation they’re in, and he thrusts sporadically before he fills her up completely.

-

He’s buckling his belt as she tries to stand up, pulling down her skirt and looking around with her eyes for her lost heel. It’s him who finds it first, putting the shoe on her like he’s her Prince Charming in their twisted version of Cinderella.

“I can’t go out like this.” She says with her arms crossed over her chest now that her blouse is of no use and her bra had actually been ripped off of her as well.

“Sure you can.” He answers almost genuinely with a smirk on his face. 

She gives him a stern look, and after a few seconds, he rolls his eyes, walking to the coat hanger and picking up his blazer, offering it to her only for her to stare at it.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Must I do everything myself?” He pulls her from where she’s leaning, uncrossing her arms and whistling at the sight of her chest before covering her with the blaze that fits too big it’s almost like a trench coat on her. “There. Better?”

She no longer fights the blush that creeps on her cheeks.

“Whatever.”

A toothy grin appears on his face before he slings an arm around her shoulder and picks up her bag. He plants a kiss on the crown of her head.

“You look nice in my clothes.” He whispers in her hair. “Let’s go.”

-

Contemporary psychotherapy.

That’s what they’re doing. 

Well, that’s what Lisa tells herself.

Sehun’s just a special case that needs to be subjugated through sexual means before he can give himself up to the process like she had.

Multiple times.

In multiple places.

Anyways…

A member of Exodus’ board called her this morning asking her to check on Sehun’s behavior when he’s on the clock. She knows it’s a bad idea to go, but they insisted. Not wanting to go public with her  _ connection _ with Sehun, she had no choice but to say yes. The company had a bit of a problem during his absence, so they brought him back but demoted him to a “consultant.” He told her how it was a slap on his face that they knew he was needed but wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

There was a time she couldn’t differentiate what he truly felt and what he didn’t. Over a few expeditions everywhere in his house, late-night calls, and much more because he was insatiable and only to herself does she confess that she’s the same, she’s finally able to tell which is which.

So when he told her that the imbalance of power between them made him feel belittled and asked for them to switch places, she said yes.

Not because of what he “felt” because she saw through that immediately, but because she wanted to have a look at what CEO Oh looked like up close. She hates to admit it, but her office chair seems to fit him better. He looked powerful, commanding, and really fucking hot.

He asked her questions about her past, and it’s his lousy attempt at trying to get to know her since subtlety wasn’t his best skill (at least when he’s around her). Somehow almost all the stories she told him, he managed to connect with sex. Her first Scout patch for knots and rope tying, along with the mention of her trying out aerial yoga once? He concluded she was interested in shibari. The one time in her rebellious teenage phase where she wanted to be arrested? He said she wanted to be cuffed, both literally and figuratively. She settles for take-aways because she can’t cook? He explains how it’s because she likes eating him out. When she scolds him for that, he tells her a much more serious deduction that she wanted to be taken care of, and making food for herself was already too much independence for her and that lucky her, he’s a fantastic cook.

Then she rode him on her chair.

And now she’s here, blending in with the workers but mostly hiding in places where she can see him but not the other way around. Whatever she saw in the office didn’t compare to Sehun in his element.

It’s true that everyone’s afraid of him, but they respect him almost just as much as they fear him. Even the interns are happy with their positions. His voice is loud, clear, and stern that it reminds her of things she shouldn’t be thinking of in such a professional environment, but then again, she’s also fucking her patient, so does it really matter?

When he’s gone off somewhere, she makes a beeline to the restroom. All this watching and thinking has her flushed, and she thinks she needs a cold wake up call. 

She reaches the sink, turning the tap on and splashing her face with the water before patting it dry and reapplying a new layer of lipstick when the door bursts open and Sehun’s striding towards her.

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing here?” He asks, clearly upset with her presence, and it makes her heart sink when his voice raises. “Are you following me? What’s all of this?”

“The b-board they asked me to—“ He doesn’t let her finish, taking out his phone and dialing a number that answers just as quickly as he called.

“Find out who sent in Dr. Manoban and send them to my office at 3. I want them on my fucking blacklist for when I get this fucking place back.” 

She’s taken aback, unused to the rage he’d shown her. She knows that it’s not the worst of it, learning about all the property damage that he’s done and— now he’s thrown his phone against the bathroom tiles.

For a second, she’s scared. But then his hands cup her face, and he’s apologizing, telling her that she’s not supposed to be here, it’s all a set up for her to change his mind and deem him incompetent for his job, he’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s—

Kissing her. And it’s because she kissed him first after the second “I’m sorry” that left his lips because she knows he means it. She knows he’s telling the truth. She knows that yes, Sehun kisses her like it’s his last day on earth and holds her head when he slams her against the wall like he’s doing right now and tells her she’s beautiful while licking the skin on her neck. And yes. CEO Oh ruins company gadgets, is presiding the fullest, and lacks unreasonable empathy because that’s what it is, unreasonable. They don’t need her to confirm anything. He knows what he’s doing, and he doesn’t need to prove to anyone if he’s okay for this job because he’s more than just “okay.” He’s  _ perfect _ for this.

And maybe perfect for her too.

Now it’s just the two of them, her skirt folded over her stomach and Sehun’s pants down just enough for him to fuck her against the cold, tiled wall of his company’s bathroom where the door isn’t locked, and anyone can come in at any second.

She tries to silence herself, but he doesn’t like it, so he kisses her before thrusting. Her legs are wrapped around him, he’s cursing in her ear, and she’s crying his name. Nothing seems to matter anymore when she’s sinking into him.

In her head, she reminds herself that the Sehun who’s currently dicking her down at the moment and CEO Oh are the same person. His previous rage bled through the way he’s fucking her, rough and almost angry. The string of expletives that leave his mouth are tripled, and the way he rubs against her makes her feel like he’s fucking her to prove something. Still, she’s not one to complain as he sends her to her high once again.

Then the door opens.

“Mr. Oh, we— Oh my—“

“Can’t you fucking read?” He curses, turning to the person who came in. “It says Ladies’ bathroom, the fuck are you doing here?”

The young male intern, who’s clearly trembling in fear, starts stuttering. “I— Mr. Park— I was t-told b-by Mr. Park to tell you th-that he f-found the pers-person.”

“He told you to find me just for that?” He asks, and the boy nods quickly. “Tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Sehun!” She seethes.

“S-sir—“

“Look, kid, I don’t have time for this.” He starts, gesturing to him and a hidden Lisa he’s covered with his large frame. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m fucking busy. Busy fucking. Semantics.”

She leans her face on his chest, trying to stop herself from thinking about their weekend at his house. How he sat her on his countertop and pushed his face in between her saying it was time for breakfast. How he had her in his jacuzzi, and they memorized every spot, mark, and scar on each other’s skin. How he railed her in all three of his guest rooms and asked her which one she liked best for Sally, all while he gave her the best fuck of her life.

And now he’s having her again, literally as he’s talking to this poor boy who might hear her moan his boss’ name if he doesn’t stop his goddamn finger.

“So unless you want to lose your fucking job,” He plants a kiss on the crown of her head, a habit of his that always ends with her face flushed, and turns his head back to the intern with a jerk. “Keep your mouth shut and get the fuck out.”

-

Three problems fall on her at the same time.

One: Minnie is being extremely judgmental about her situation with Sehun. Although the heavy feeling in her chest lightens when Jennie cheers her on, it still doesn’t settle well with her.

Two: His mother knows about their relationship thanks to the sudden threat a board member got — the very same board member who called her that morning.

Three: Her period is late.

“I just don’t understand what you see in him.” Minnie starts, arms crossed while she leans on the wall beside her bed. “I understand what might lead him to be transfixed with you, but vice versa?”

Jennie rolls her eyes at her. “Oh, come on, Minnie. You can’t expect two hot people who see each other almost every day for two hours not to hook up. It’s just not possible. Besides, aren’t you happy Lisa’s getting her rose bush watered?”

Lisa chokes on her water. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Jennie asks innocently.

“That was disgusting,” Minnie answered.

“You’re just prudish.” Jennie retorts with her tongue sticking out.

“Am not,” Minnie answers defensively.

At the same time, Lisa and Jennie say it. “Are too.”

She glares at both of them. “I am  _ not _ a prude.”

“Oh yeah?” Jennie swung around in Lisa’s smaller swivel chair for her room’s desk. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Lisa laughs at this. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“Possibly pregnant people don’t get to talk.” Minnie fires back, and Lisa jumps.

“Shit, I forgot about that!” She says, jumping to the bathroom and picking up the third and final test.

“HAH!” Lisa yells in the hallway. “I get to talk!”

“Lisa! Your boy toy sent a message!” Jennie calls out from her room. After throwing the three sticks in the trash, she washes her hands and leaves the bathroom.

“What does it say?” She asks Jennie who, for some reason, knew her passcode and was reading Sehun’s message.

“ _ Is Sally coming or what? _ ” Jennie looks at her, evidently confused. “Are you having a threesome without me?”

Lisa smiles shyly, whereas Minnie rolls her eyes.

“Sally’s the name of their kid if they ever have one,” Minnie answers, dropping on Lisa’s bed and causing her to jump. “Which will probably happen soon since those two keep going at it like animals.”

“Rude.” Lisa shoves her friend slightly, only for her to raise a brow. Jennie hands back her phone, and she sends him a message, getting a quick reply right after. She starts taking her shirt off and hands Jennie her phone again.

“What are you doing?” Minnie asks, getting off the mattress when Lisa takes off her shorts as well, showing the matching set of lingerie she’s wearing underneath.

“He’s a little bummed out right now, and I kinda want to cheer him up,” Lisa replies. Jennie beams at this, telling Minnie to move over so she can take the pictures before settling to a mischievous smile.

“Hey Minnie,” she turns to her friend with Lisa’s phone laying flat on her palm. “If you’re really not a prude, why don’t  _ you _ take Lisa’s half nudes?”

-

They’re about to start another one of their desk-apades (as he calls it) when her phone rings, and she’s forced to shush him.

Around ten minutes ago, she was talking to him about possibly prescribing him medication. One of its downsides would be sexual suppression. She expected him to be angry, or maybe even let down at least. Instead, he said that they should make up for it early on and kissed her. Obviously, with more planned to come after had it not been interrupted.

“ _ Hello? Is this Dr. Lalisa Manoban? _ ”

It’s Rosie, one of Sehun’s friends, even though he doesn’t want to admit it. She knows because he warned her of the blonde bombshell who’s currently being puppeteered by her husband to try and finally meet her. Sehun thinks it’s too risky to tell people on his side about their — well, they haven’t really put a label on it, but she knows it’s  _ something _ — since they’re mostly his coworkers too, and with his mom knowing, she agrees wholeheartedly.

“Now, I don’t want you to change your last name,” He whispers in her ear before dipping down her jaw to plant a kiss there. “But Lalisa Oh does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

She clears her throat, trying to ignore Sehun’s wandering hands and the lingering feeling they leave. “Speaking. How can I help you?”

“ _ This is Mrs. Park, one of Exodus’ board members. My husband and I just wanted to personally thank you for helping CEO Oh. Although we didn’t really believe his suspension was necessary given his worth ethic, his behavior at the office definitely improved since he started coming to you. _ ”

“More like coming  _ in _ you.” He chuckles against her neck while his hands are on her thighs again, and it’s deja vu from their first expedition. A particular movement makes her stifle a whimper and slap his arm in annoyance.

“ _ He’s definitely less brutish, doesn’t yell as much, and there are times where he’s the most level headed person in the room. _ ” His thumb brushes over her panties, feeling up her soaking ache, and she bites back a whine, glaring at him only for him to return with an innocent smile that eventually turns into a sinister smirk. “ _ The press can’t even vilify him anymore, and I hope you know a lot of it is because of you. _ ”

“Thank you,” She smiles before letting out an erratic breath that she covers up with a cough. “That means a lot to me.”

“ _ We also want to extend our gratitude by giving you something in return. Sehun mentioned your interest in ballet. Perhaps you’d like to watch a show with us in the near future? We’ll even invite Sehun to tag along if that’ll make you more comfortable _ .”

Just when she’s about to say no, Sehun hooks his fingers on the fabric and tears it apart, and dives a digit, whispering in her ear to say yes.

“I— of course. That would be wonderful.” She barely manages to say when there’s an ongoing conversation between his lips, his hands, and her skin distracting her.

“ _ Great! We’ll email you the details and— _ “

Sehun snatches the phone from her grasp while he slips in and out of her, his thumb rolling on her pulse, making her draw out a muffled moan. “Rosie, can you do me a favor and pass the phone to Chanyeol?”

The girl doesn’t even argue, handing it over to her husband, whose voice booms through the speaker.

“ _ What’s up, Doc— _ “

“Hey, fuckwad,” Sehun greets, and the man on the other side starts laughing. Lisa, on the other hand, tries her best to be silent while Sehun’s pushing her over the edge again, and it proves to be a difficult feat because  _ holy fuck, he’s good _ . “I’m in the middle of something here, and if you don’t stop using your wife to meet my girlfriend, I’m diluting your shares so fucking low Eduardo Saverin’ll get war flashbacks.”

He hangs up the phone, hitting a spot in her that makes her melt in his arms, and looks at her. Glasses off and tossed somewhere (he can get her a new pair), hair messy and out of that tight bun of hers because he loves it when her hair is down, lips swollen from his kisses, and begging for him. All of her is begging for him. Sehun almost wants to stay in this moment forever.

His fingers pull out of her, and before she can complain, he lays her on the table and slaps her thigh, earning him a whimper.

He makes a mental note to tell her to stop putting shit on her desk because he’s going to keep pushing it to the floor until she gets the hint that he doesn’t want a messy workplace.

Lisa can’t muster the energy to be angry at his lack of property care when he stands in front of her, hair tousled from her tugging, a shadow casting over his eyes making them look dark. He towers over her with broad shoulders and gets a sight of the glistening skin that managed to peak through whatever buttons she managed to undo earlier on. He’s chiseled and refined like a Greek statue come to life, and he’s standing in front of her.

She blushes when she realizes that she’d been ogling, looking away only for him to tilt her chin back to his direction.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He commands. “And don’t look away.”

Then he drops to his knees.

He pushes hers apart and buries himself in her, his tongue flicking and dragging across her weep, and it hits her like hail falling all at once. She grabs a fistful of his hair, arching her back, letting out a shattered cry from when he drives into her with two fingers and sweeps over her bundle of nerves. He never seems to tire of wanting to taste her, always savoring it as if he’s her last meal, and it’s so fucking good. He’s so fucking good.

His hands grip her thighs, keeping them in place when she instinctively tries to close them shut and he leaves her exposed to him. She thinks of how they got here, how they went from conversations where she would swear she’d never sleep with him and he would tell her that he’d prove her wrong, and he did. Twenty, maybe twenty-one times.

There are times she thinks he knows her more than she knows him. Like which spots make her body curve and breath stagger like she’s doing right now, what she’s interested in even if she doesn’t say it out loud because he memorizes her every move and remembers the gazes that linger longer than they usually do, how she handles her spice and her alcohol so he never leaves her with his hot sauce and never lets her drink past sobriety because he wants her conscious and awake when he fucks the tipsy out of her system.

He smacks her flesh again, glaring at her for overthinking before devouring her again, bobbing his head up and down and filling her in, pulling explicatives out of her. 

Past Lisa was definitely,  _ definitely _ repressed.

She didn’t know how much of a dripping, hot mess Sehun Oh could get her with just dirty conversations and filthy promises. Even more of a puddle of pleas and sinful sounds when he fulfills said promises with his mouth, his fingers, his dick,  _ Jesus _ , his everything. She had kept herself from this. From him. But not anymore as she climbs to her peak, waiting for that free fall when he pins both her hands above her head, still working his hands on her, and peers into her with those darkened eyes, leaving her more turned on than she’s ever been in her life.

“Now.” He growls, and fuck, his voice is enough for her to start clenching on his digits.

Her labored breathing harmonizes with his, and she could hear their asynchronized heartbeats when he pulls her up, staring at her with his arms wrapped around her waist. She pushes back the hair that fell to his face, something uncharacteristically wholesome after what they had just done.

She inhales, then exhales, trying to calm herself.

“You called me your girlfriend.”

He looks at her, unimpressed. “You think I fuck you just because I want to?” His hands move to her ass, and he pulls her closer to him. “Doll Face, I’ve been in love with you since I took that first fucking step through that door.” His finger is pointed at her office’s doorway.

She wants to tell him that she probably fell for him too on the same day when he first spoke to her but keeps it to herself because he’s already cocky enough.

“Still, that doesn’t mean I’m your girlfriend, Sehun. You never even asked me out on a date.” She sees him open his mouth and cuts him off before he can say anything. “No, sex is not considered as a date.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms childishly. “Fine. Go out with me.”

She raises a brow at him.

“Please.”

Smiling, she pecks his lips in an attempt to lighten up the angry look on his face. It doesn’t work, but she laughs anyway. “Well, since you asked nicely… sure. I’ll go out with you.”

He gruffs, still displeased with her. She can feel his hard-on pressing against her thigh and smiles when she figures out what she can do to make it up to him.

“Remember what you said about Golden Gate blowjobs?”

-

They’re official.

He calls her his girlfriend.

She’s sure he’s her boyfriend.

When he no longer needs to go to their sessions, he pretty much orders her to pack up her things and move in with him, and she says yes. They stay at his place more often, anyway, and he’s stocked with food and has a bigger, comfier bed. 

She tells Minnie first, much to her dismay, because not only was her best friend moving, but her demented boyfriend unknowingly forced her to help because he didn’t hire anyone in an attempt to get extra time with Lisa. She was willing to fight tooth and nail to have a share of that time as well. There’s a time Minnie almost asks her to stay.

She changes her mind when she sees his place.

Then she changes her mind again when she remembers that Lisa and Sehun supposedly fucked everywhere.

Then she changes it  _ again _ when she sees the alcohol “cabinet” because it’s a room. Definitely room. They didn’t fuck there, and she knows because anyone with at least one brain cell would know better, and if they say they did, they’re lying.

They didn’t, thankfully.

But now Sehun plans to have Lisa there next.

Moving on...

He introduces her to his friends. Chanyeol was the most excited one out of the bunch to meet her after he heard of a certain doll his friend has been obsessed with. He told her that he assumed Sehun had fallen in love with a sex doll seeing as his friend didn’t really do dating much because of his crass attitude. Lisa laughed at that, and Chanyeol seemed to be unafraid of Sehun’s death glares and threats. She connected quickly with Rosie and Jisoo, who was actually Junmyeon’s fiancée, and they had brunch together with Jennie being a recent addition after she met Dr. Jongin Kim during a conference where both she and Lisa had been.

Her life feels fuller. Not that she ever felt like it was incomplete, but it was more on the idea of “the more, the merrier.”

She knows she’s good for him. Everyone tells her so.

They don’t know he’s just as good for her as well. Maybe even more.

But they don’t need to know that because she tells him every day when she thinks he doesn’t hear.

He does.

They wake up next to each other, leave for work after a kiss, and come back home to each other’s arms. It’s new with a slight familiarity that tells her this is right. This is meant to be. When she opens her eyes in the morning and hears his heartbeat first, when he has his arms wrapped around her while she’s trying to find something to wear, when they’re in the shower and he slaps her ass with a towel and they play fight which ends with him thrusting in and out of her until the water runs cold.

He feels like home.

It wasn’t easy to get here, of course. As always, nothing good ever comes easy. His mother threatened to release to the press that the only reason Sehun was qualified again for his position was because of their relationship. The rumor about her sleeping with her patients spread, and of course, gossip columns got a hold of it.

Her credibility and practice were questioned.

Her career was almost in shambles.

Sehun was pissed.

He resigned, which during that moment felt stupid, and started his own company. She wasn’t surprised when it turned out as a major success because she fell in love with an overachiever. They couldn’t tell him he was unqualified for a position under a company he was no longer in. A lot of people followed him, and he welcomed them with open workspaces waiting to be stacked with paperwork. He likes the people on his team, friends, and new allies alike. She saw his office first and marveled at the citywide view.

He fucked her on his desk that night.

Earlier today, he texted her saying he’ll be home late while she was in the middle of a shopping spree with Rosie. She hitched a ride with her new friend to wait in his new building’s lobby and greeted him with a kiss that was equal parts cheesy and romantic with the way he spun her around.

And now she’s riding him in his car.

It’s not the fairytale love story she once hoped for, but she can pretend his Maserati is their pumpkin carriage, the cards in his wallet are magic because they can get her anything she wants, and his dick could be Fairy Godmother’s wand with the way it made her dreams come true.

She’s his Cinderella in a baby blue set of lace lingerie, he’s her crass and cocky Prince Charming who fits her perfectly, and this is the twisted version of their happily ever after.

The end.


End file.
